


This Time

by laughablyunimportant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Reassembly, Robots, Self-Destruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughablyunimportant/pseuds/laughablyunimportant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk has some self-destructive tendencies he may have passed on to his robotic creations.</p><p>(There's nothing else for it. He's going to have to rip out his heart.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Time

"You really have to stop pulling these melodramatic antics."

Brobot tried to tilt his head quizzically, his whole cranium almost overbalancing and tumbling off his neck before Jake steadied it with a hand, scowling. 

"Hold still, this is hard enough without any further tomfoolery." Hefting the welding torch in his other hand, Jake nudged down his faceshield and began soldering Brobot's neck supports into place, nowhere near as proficient as Dirk, but still steady enough, with plenty of practice repairing this particular bot under his belt. 

He reached the end of the last neck joint and shut off the torch, lifting his faceshield and shifting back on his feet to examine his work so far. He felt, rather than saw, Brobot tracking him, the soft whirring of his camera adjusting and refocusing the only clue that his companion hadn't gone into standby mode. In some ways it would have been better if he had, but Jake had wanted him back online as soon as possible. It was bad enough having to endure the solitude of the island while he combed the jungle floor, looking for all the exploded and scattered bits of his friend. He didn't want to have to put him back together alone too. 

He sighed, picking up the largest piece of arm he'd been able to retrieve, stepping up to begin the process of re-wiring it in. At least he had Dirk's instructions from the first time he'd put the bot together, he's not sure he would have been able to manage otherwise, even with all the leftover equipment from Terry Kiser. 

"I won't always be able to fix you, you know," he continued, like he'd never stopped talking. It was a bad habit he'd picked up, falling into silence and picking up the thread again minutes, hours, or even days later. Brobot had never broken him of it, since he always remembered perfectly where they'd left off. 

"There. Give that a go." Brobot sent a command down the length of his arm. Two fingers wiggled in response. Jake nodded, almost to himself, going back to the pile to fish out another piece big enough to work with. 

"I suppose you think you're rather clever, smashing the uranium to bits so I had a piece small enough for Terry Kiser. But you didn't have to go blowing yourself up after that." 

Brobot tilted his head again, heavy cranium staying in place this time when he leaned forward to thump it lightly against Jake's chest before glancing back up at the boy. 

Jake scowled. "It is _not_ funny. I am plumb fed up with Striders and their shenanigans! I've half a mind to just leave you like that, next time! See how you like it then." 

Brobot was silent then, and Jake continued his work, another test run assuring him that Brobot had at least partial control of both arms. He pulled over a pile of scrap then, working with the blow torch to try to cobble the bot's arms back together. It wasn't long before sweat was dripping down his face, metal growing almost too warm in his grip, and he had to set his tools down for another break. 

Brobot waited for him to push up his faceshield before reaching out one of his reconstructed hands to cup Jake's face, metal digit tracing the curve of his cheek. 

Jake sighed, shoulders drooping even as he brought up one of his own hands to cover Brobot's. "Just, promise me you won't do something like that again? Without talking to me, at least?" 

Brobot tried to look down and away, but Jake ducked, maintaining eyecontact. "Hey, I don't care _what_ Strider tells you to do. You're _my_ robot. Mine, not his. And I don't want my property getting damaged. Understood?" 

From anyone else, to anyone else, it would have sounded possessive and vaguely offensive. But to the metal wrestling bot turned protector turned companion, it sounded like what it really was: a declaration of friendship. Of caring. 

Jake glanced over at the pile of remaining parts, trying to hide the color rising to his cheeks. "Say, you think you can last til tomorrow on the rest? I'm all out of steam, and could go for some flicks. What do you say?"

Brobot attempted a shrug, something rattling internally, but otherwise staying intact. Jake flashed him a grin, stepping up to wrap his arms around Brobot's chassis, just under his arms, and gripping as tight as he dared, what with the fresh repair job. "Right then, I'll carry _you_ this time. Hup-ho!"


End file.
